A Series of Unfortunate Sales and Trades - A Memoir by Oswald The Merchant (2)
Hello my unfortu- I MEAN WONDERFUL, yes, so very wonderful guests and customers! No? Not future customers? Ah well, you'll find that my words have a way of...charming people after a while *winks* I think there were a couple of my customers who asked me if I was really a disciple of a famous wordsmith before. Of course I was! Pardon? Who was this famous wordsmith? AH! Yes! Hmm. Good question. But that's not important now, is it? The important thing is that I WAS, and therefore I AM, yes? Yes? YES! Demonstrate this skill? Why, I thought you'd never ask! Here we go!! Unfortunate Sale #2 - Byebye Turban There once was a merchant, Oswald was his name, He wore vests and loose pants And to sell was his game! Olive skin and black hair Hidden under a turban But a trip to the kingdom (some years ago) Made it now a burden They ask questions of his sales He tells them “Ask and I shall sell!” Golden swords and chainmail; These fat and burly men smell One fine day in the Kingdom He opens the shop by the river Selling old books and new slaves And some magic in silver He welcomes a customer Who was fat and burly (dear god, why) Wrapped in cheap bronze armour And a small blade down his side Oswald sighs “I need swords, good ones,” Or so was his demand But Oswald wasn’t listening For his blade was so blunt till Oswald was sure That his fats were sharper “Oi, are you deaf?” “No, sir! Pardon me!” “Then get me my blade!” “Of course, good sir!” And this line doesn't rhyme, becausethethoughtofhissmellbringsbackverybadmemories So the Merchant enters his shop To be precise, the Galleria Because that’s where he keeps All the ones that were cheap In the box labelled “Rubbish Heap” He gives the sword to the guard Who eyes lit up in surprise “That’ll be 20 Quin,” Oswald says With a very wide grin “I won’t pay a cent,” Says the fat and burly man Ah, such tragic fate For the ones who try and cheat A Merchant with borrowed magic And some very fine antiques Not long after leaving Oswald sighs and goes inside He snaps his two fingers And soon after, the burly man dies And the Kingdom was in search For the merchant with a turban They scurried to the river Only to find That the merchant had resigned And the only things left Were the turban he wore And the sword that the fat man bore So Oswald the Merchant Made his way for the Sands To bring back heaps of weapons and more To fill up this precious galore Of old swords and books and…''war'' And he never wore his turban again For if he did Fat and burly men might come to see What his shop has in store Other than old swords and magical armour And some very nice whores. Well now? What do you think! Not bad eh? What? Basic?! Ah well, I wouldn't expect peasa- I MEAN, common folk, yes, to understand the beauty of what I just wrote. Hah! Till the next entry!